


Third Wheel

by Editor7



Category: The Beatles
Genre: M/M, Pre-Beatles, Teens being dumb, This took too long to write, and a half, date
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-20
Updated: 2017-03-20
Packaged: 2018-10-08 10:55:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10385058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Editor7/pseuds/Editor7
Summary: John tags along on one of Paul's dates.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hiho...as usual, I'm embarrassed as hell to post this and am questioning the accuracy of what I've written, but those are given at this point.  
> This was ALSO based on certain little tidbits I read. Didn't plan on writing this much pre-Beatles stuff, but here we are...enjoy *shuffles away awkwardly*

"Now, this here is the latest song I've written. It's from last week, and I was pretty tired then, so I'm not sure if it's any good. But give it a look, and be honest." Paul held up a paper.

John squinted at it. "I can't read it from here."

"Put your glasses on, man," Paul instructed with a sigh.

"I left them at home."

"Come closer, then."

John leaned in until his face was mere millimeters from Paul's. "This close enough?"

The two boys giggled madly.

Paul's brother Michael popped his head in the doorway and saw them.

He made a face. "Eeew, what are you guys doooing?"

"Mike! We're doing grown-up musician things," snapped Paul. "Go peep in on some other folks."

"Oh, Paul, don't tell the kid to peep," John said in a snooty voice. "Be a role model!"

Paul laughed and finally shoved John away. "Don't you nag me!"

"Hmph! I just thought I'd remind you to check the time, Mr. Grown-Up Musician," Mike pouted before leaving.

"The time...?" Paul glanced at his watch. "Oh...OH! Sorry, John, I've gotta run!"

"Huh? Where to?" 

"Well, I've got a date."

"You..." John shook his head. "I mean, that's great! What's her name?"

"Charlotte. I met her a few days ago."

John flinched at the name. Paul had a thing for French girls. "Hm. Well, how about you let me tag along? I can look out for you, and see if you...if SHE, rather, is the right one for you! I've got more experience with this stuff, you see. So, you won't have to worry your pretty little head about it!"

"I guess that'd be alright. I mean, I don't think she'd mind too much..."

"Great! Let's go!"

Once outside, Paul retrieved his bicycle, mounted it and gave John a questioning look.

"Er, my bike has a flat, I'm afraid," the older boy explained. "Sooo, can I...?"

"Hop on," Paul said reluctantly.

"Thanks!" 

John perched himself behind Paul on the seat and wrapped his arms around his torso as he began pedaling. He could feel Paul's little heart racing.

"Great...Paul seems really excited to meet with this bird..." thought John. "If they start seeing each other, he might end up spending less time with me. Or he'll quit spending time with me altogether."

"O-Ow..." wheezed Paul. 

John noticed he'd been clutching Paul's waist quite tightly and loosened up. "Sorry! So, how much do you know about this girl?"

"You make it sound like she's some sort of spy," Paul said with a slight laugh.

"Don't dodge the question, now!"

"Well, like I said, she seemed very nice, but then, we only spoke for a minute. She had that same Elvis record I bought last week; that's how we struck up a conversation, you see. That's all I really know, John."

"Ohhh, so you haven't kissed her, then?"

"No!" Paul giggled. "I told you, we only had a short chat! Why do you ask?"

"Just curious...!"

Soon, the boys arrived at the spot where Charlotte had agreed to meet Paul. They waited and waited, but she was nowhere to be seen.

"Y'know what, Paul? Maybe she's not coming. Maybe she likes some other bloke better than you and went out with him instead. Maybe she's not quite as nice as you first...thought..." John trailed off when he saw Paul frown.

Before he could apologize, a girl with long dark hair skipped up to Paul and hugged him.

"Paaaul!" she squealed. "There you are!"

Paul's face lit up. "Charlotte! You actually came!"

"Why wouldn't I?" 

"Well...I've been waiting here for about twenty minutes, and..."

"Eh?" Charlotte checked her watch. "My wristwatch says it's 6 o' clock on the dot."

Paul looked at his watch, then Charlotte's, then his, then at John, who was staring daggers at him.

"I-I guess my watch is a little fast," he giggled nervously. "Silly me..."

John rolled his eyes. He was gonna kill Mike later.  
Not only was Charlotte French, but she was quite the looker. She had bangs, porcelain skin, defined eyelashes and the most adorable smile. And she had a slight accent, he noticed.  
John would have to try his damnedest to make sure Paul didn't completely fall for this girl.  
Oh, God, she was holding his hand.

"Come on, let's get something to eat!" she said excitedly.

John cleared his throat rather noisily, snapping Paul out of his brief stupor.

"Oh, w-would it be okay if my friend John joined us?"

"Well, three is a crowd..." Charlotte flashed John a grin. "But I like crowds! It's fine with me!"

Paul chuckled at that. Great, she was funny too.

"As long as he pays for his own food," added Charlotte. "I only brought enough money for two meals, after all."

"Oh, John's always got money," Paul followed her along the sidewalk. "Well, almost always."

John grabbed Paul's shoulder and whispered to him. "Did you hear what she said? She's going to pay for your food! What kind of a girl does that?"

"Hmm...Maybe she's rich!" Paul said optimistically.

John gulped. A rich, cute, funny, punctual French girl was taking Paul on a date.  
He didn't stand a chance.

Once the trio reached the restaurant, John rushed to sit beside Paul before Charlotte could. So, she sat across from him instead. 

When the waiter arrived, John interrupted Charlotte before she could order, saying he'd have whatever Paul was having. He wanted to make it clear how close he and Paul were. 

"A steak, please," Charlotte said politely. "Rare."

"Certainly," the waiter uttered before strolling away.

"Ohh, so you're a red meat kind of girl," commented Paul.

Charlotte blushed slightly. "I'm not sure why, I just like it raw."

"Yeah, I bet you do," John said out of the corner of his mouth.

"...soooo, Charlotte, you're an Elvis fan?"

"Oh, who isn't?" The girl gave an amiable wave. "He's wonderful, isn't he?"

"You know, John told me that I sort of look like Elvis."

"Did I say that? I never said that!" John interjected. "Besides, if I ever DID say that, which I didn't, I would've only been humoring you, Paul! You don't resemble him at all."

"Really?" Charlotte leaned across the table to get a closer look, then sat back down.

"He does look a bit like him. Wow..." she said dreamily.

John glanced beside him. Paul had that look. That look like he was falling in love. Crap.

It wasn't long before the waiter returned with their food. They all thanked him for it, and he asked them what they would like to drink.

"Beer, please," said John.

"Uh, water's fine," said Charlotte.

"Water for me, too," said Paul. He noticed John giving him a look. "What?"

The waiter scribbled it down and walked off.

"So...you drink?" asked Charlotte.

"Yep! And so does Paul!" John put an arm around his shoulders. "We smoke, too!"

"I don't smoke that much," Paul added.

"You're a bit green for things of that sort, aren't you?" Charlotte hesitated to ask.

"It's legal," snorted John.

Paul shook John off of him. "I mean, we're gonna smoke and drink when we get older anyway, right? We're just, uh, getting a taste for it."

"...okay, then. I'd never do those things myself, though."

"You don't want to try it? I don't buy that for a second," John said almost mockingly.

"John!" Paul cut in. "Don't be insensitive."

"No worries," Charlotte assured him. "It's just...I've seen firsthand what that stuff can do to you."

"How so?"

The girl seemed to shrink at the question. "Someone I'm very close to...is in the hospital, because of addiction and the like..."

"Sorry..." Paul felt bad for questioning her further. "I know how that goes. 'Cause of...what happened to my mother."

"Oh," Charlotte mumbled and raised her eyebrows in an artificially carefree manner. "I'm terribly sorry."

John stood to leave. "I'm gonna...head to the bathroom."

"It's very hard losing someone close to you," Paul went on. "You have to be strong, okay?"

"I'm going...to the bathroom," John said again. He was ignored. 

Charlotte clutched the skirt of her dress. "I don't know if I'm capable of such strength."

"Ooh, boy..." John hurried away before things could get more dreary.

Of course he felt sorry for Charlotte; he wasn't heartless, after all. But there was the risk that Paul would bring up his late mother as well, and he didn't want to go into his sob story with her around. He didn't want her pity, nor Paul's.  
Besides, John knew she was talking about her mother. It was something in the way she spoke, how guarded she was, the look in her eye...John knew she was talking about her mother. And if Charlotte's mother died, Paul would no doubt get attached to her like he had to John. 

"Why, oh, why am I so damn selfish?" John asked the bathroom mirror.

He had to face facts. Charlotte seemed much more polite and proper than John, and it was clear that Paul really liked her already. She was pretty and French and everything Paul could ever want. Why on Earth would he bother keeping John around anymore? He was better off with the girl.  
John took a deep breath and returned to the dinner table.

No one was there. 

"Paul? Paul?!"

He looked all around the restaurant for Paul, afraid that he'd lost him already, until the boy was spotted just outside the restaurant.

John hurried over to him. "Paul!"

Paul turned, grinning. "Oh, hi. That was a very quick bathroom break."

"Wha-What happened to your date?" 

"There," Paul pointed down the street at Charlotte's retreating figure. 

John raised an eyebrow. "You seem awfully happy about being walked out on."

"No, John!" Paul shook his head laughingly. "We were conversing, and I told her to go see her mate in hospital. This is the time for them to spend as many hours together as they can. Just in case, you know? She doesn't need me, she needs her loved one. And call me an optimist, but I get the feeling she'll be much better off sticking with them. At least for now."

"Yeah...yeah!" John nodded. "Good on you, Paulie!"

"Thanks!"

"And...I'm sorry for being such a pain in the neck tonight," John added sheepishly. "I just felt crummy because our songwriting time got cut short. You forgive me, don't you?"

Paul waved dismissively. "Of course I do, a pain in the neck is just what you are. You can't help it."

"Gee, THANKS!" John punched him in the arm, feigning offense. "Boy, that's the last time I apologize to you, ya damn wanker!"

Paul beamed as he rubbed his fresh bruise. "You and I can still finish the dinner if you'd like. Someone's got to pay for it, after all."

"Sure!" John paused. "One last question."

"What's that?"

"Did you kiss her?"

"Who? Charlotte?"

"No, Joan of Arc. YES, Charlotte!"

Paul looked aside in embarrassment. "Well..."

John gasped. "You did!" 

"She kissed ME!" scoffed Paul. "And it was VERY quick, it hardly even counts!

"Aw, Paulie's mad because he didn't get a real kiss? I suppose I shouldn't have told her you smoked, she might have been more eager then!" teased John. "What, was she lousy at it?"

"Shut up, John," Paul grumbled. 

"Imagine that! A Frenchie who's bad at Frenching!" John cackled.

"Shut up! You're probably no better a kisser than her!"

"That right?" John took Paul's shoulders. "Want me to prove it? I'll show you a real kiss."

"..."

Paul took a shaky breath as John leaned in. Both pairs of eyelids went lower and lower...

John wiggled his tongue at Paul.

"EWW!" the younger boy laughed. "Get away, you creep! NO! AGHHH!"

"MWAH MWAH MWAH MWAH!" John made gross noises right in Paul's ear. "LET ME KISS YOU, PAUL!"

"Hahahahahaha!"


End file.
